160 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER. 



you see, fears the Russians, and will not let me go to 

 the mountains ; now give me your horse, and I will do 

 every thing you desire. I will steal you my father's 

 best rifle, his best shashka any thing you will. His 

 shashka is a genuine gurda : only hold it out in your 

 hand, and the blade strikes into the flesh of its own 

 accord ; and his shirt of mail is as good as yours 

 every bit.' 



Kasbitch made no answer. 



' The first time I saw your horse,' continued 

 Asamat, 'as it whirled round beneath you, and dashed 

 away with expanded nostrils, the stones flashing fire 

 beneath its hoofs, something, I know not what, seized 

 hold of my soul, and from that moment I could never 

 bear to look at any other. I scorned my father's best 

 and fleetest steeds, I should have been ashamed to be 

 seen on the back of one of them. I was completely 

 overcome with grief, and would sit pining the livelong 

 day on a rock, and every moment I had before my 

 eyes your black horse, with his stately step, his back 

 straight and smooth as an arrow, and his bright eyes 

 that looked into mine, as if he would speak to me. 

 I shall die Kasbitch, if you will not let me have 

 him.' 



Asamat's voice faltered, and I fancied I heard him 

 crying. Now I must tell you Asamat was a most 



